Crazy Detective Novels & Stories

A heavy silence settled, broken only by Dima's ragged breaths and broken laughter, as if the apartment itself had become the stage for a dark murder between madness and reality. Detective Mohammed (his voice barely a whisper, filled with anger and a hint of madness): We'll see... but I feel like something's wrong here... as if madness is swirling around me. How could they do all this with the devil's help? Why isn't there any force helping me catch the criminals? The stillness of the night weighed heavily on them, their breaths mingling with the detective's pounding heartbeat, as his gaze pierced the thick darkness of the tower, trying to see every secret, every movement, before it was too l

Danny? What the hell is he doing here? I look around and my eyes meet the security. "Security, this guy is going to cause a scene" I yell and they rush to the guy and stop on seeing him. "Boss" they all call in unison. Huh "Are you crazy, did Regina not tell you about him, I thought ladies gossip a lot" one of them says to me "Boss, we're sorry, she just resumed and does not know you" another apologizes and they ledve. Holy shit.

Sex was the only upside to their farce marriage and Kristen had removed that option, showing him how crazy she was in the first place. The next morning, she exhibited another characteristic of crazy. Adrian did not forget that his brand new wife was a shitty cook. Even if he tried to, he could forget that she almost burnt down the cabin while they were on vacation. Adrian woke up that morning to the choking smell of smoke. He actually forgot that he had a brand new roommate and feared that he left something on the previous night, something that had inadvertently led to the fire. He rushed to the living room where he noticed the source of the fire. Kristen had the good grace to look sheepish.

“What's the address?” “Find it by yourself.” Syila cut the connection unilaterally. Irin, who had been listening for a long time, became interested. “Who?” she asked. “Crazy playboy.” The woman frowned in disbelief, until a tall figure wearing a black coat and black pants reached there and glared at Syila angrily. Wasn't he… Clarisa's ex-fiancé? *** “The crazy playboy has arrived, honey?” The growl made Syila flinch, she even stared at Jake who was standing behind her now.

Garry said nonchalantly. "What!,are you outta it?,do you even have a heart?." "For a guy who has killed hundreds of people and more,yes,I don't have a heart."Garry replied. Larry scoffed in disbelief. "So, where's she now?." "Don't know. She was the one I was looking for to get her to confess if she's truly a spy and then kill her afterwards when I bumped into those men."Garry replied. "You're really crazy!!!."Larry yelled.

(JANE JOHNSON) I had been sitting right outside the Deputy of police office, getting nervous at intervals; this was my first job in a very long time. I never dreamed of getting back to being a detective, the fact that I had no other choice made it more awful. As soon as the handsome man with dark curly hair and blue eyes entered the office, there had been a series of yelling and shouting. He didn’t even notice me when he walked by, there must have been something very important in his mind.

I looked up to find him out of his seat, his upper body leaning towards me. "Can you repeat the question, detective? I don't think I heard you.” I snickered. “Pardon me, Detective. I want to paint my nails black, but do you know what the voices in my head want?" I leaned across the table towards him, a smirk on my lips and mischievous eyes gleaming. "Detective, they sound so convincing that I am thinking about doing what they want me to do—jump across this table and strangle you to death." He nodded and stepped back as if he had gotten the answers he wanted. “I see. I should have known that the nation’s sweetheart is mentally unstable.”

“Ma’am, can you talk to us? We’re here to help. What’s your name?” I gulped hard before I answered, “Brielle. Brielle Champagne.” “Ok. That's a start. Thank you, Ms. Champagne. I’m Detective Morris with Chicago P.D. Can you tell me what happened while they work on your friend?” The detective was very nice and patient with me. He was tall, fit, and had a lot of tattoos. Like a marine, maybe. The gear he had on looked like it weighed almost as much as he did, but he carried it well, and it was obvious he took his job very seriously.

“Good girl, do whatever you can to get closer to him, baby girl. You've got the looks and body, plus he's into you.” He said as he tilted his head to the side. I don't know but some of his mannerisms remind me of Archer, or is that how all mafia bosses behave? “What is your name?” “What name have you given me?” “Umm, Joker?” He chuckled dryly. “Call me that, Malysh. Remember, there's no backing down.” And with those words he vanished, he was so swift in leaving. I stood there, drowned in thoughts. How the hell am I supposed to spy on Archer? He even hates seeing me around.

Zack extinguished his cigarette, his voice filled with warmth echoed in the darkness. Then the lights turned on, and the man in the white shirt tightened the coat draped over my shoulders, I looked up at him, still half-asleep, and asked, "What took you so long?" Zack paused. "Sherry was a victim of a scam on her way home from work." He couldn't even be bothered to make an excuse. Feeling somewhat numb, I asked, "So you went to handle it for her?" Zack nodded. "Yeah." The pent-up grievances burst forth, and tears rolled down my cheeks.